


Untranslated stars

by cathyearnshaw



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Homecoming, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:25:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathyearnshaw/pseuds/cathyearnshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So why did you leave?” <br/>It took her three days to ask the question she knew the answer to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Eruptive lightnings flutter to and fro  
Above the heights of immemorial hills;  
Thirst-stricken air, dumb-throated, in its woe  
Limply down-sagging, its limp body spills  
Upon the earth. A panting silence fills  
The empty vault of Night with shimmering bars  
Of sullen silver, where the lake distils  
Its misered bounty.—Hark! No whisper mars  
The utter silence of the untranslated stars.  
e. e. cummings

***

Furiosa wasn’t at the Citadel when he finally returned, almost one hundred days after he’d seen her for the last time, a tower of strength and courage rising above the Wretched.

He reckoned it was well-deserving. He’d come back with the sole intent to see her again, and she wasn’t there. He’d thought about the moment of his return a thousand times during the long, lonely, nightmare-filled nights in the Wasteland, but her not being there had never crossed his mind. 

It was Toast who first spotted him. She was on patrol with a group of War Boys and stopped one of them from shooting him when she recognized the black Imperator scarf he still wore. She was wise enough to tell them to hold back and approach him alone.

“Took you long enough, Fool.”

“Name’s Max,” he said, almost inaudibly.

“Fool suits you best, after what you did. Furiosa’s always read people well.”

She was nothing but observant. She did not miss the glint in his eyes when he heard her name. 

“In case you’re wondering, and I know you are, she’s okay. Still healing, but okay. She’ll be glad to see you, although I cannot see why.” She spoke with unconcealed bitterness. Max couldn’t blame her. “Are you hurt? Did you get into any sort of trouble?”

He felt his chest tightening a bit, realizing she’d thought he’d come back out of need. Well, he actually had. But he wouldn’t say that to Toast. Hell, he would probably never say that, period. 

“M’ fine. No trouble.”

“Well, are you coming with me, or did you just feel like taking a look and scurrying back into the desert?”

“I…” He hesitated. He hadn’t thought that far. He’d imagined Furiosa would be the one who met him out there, and once seeing her and making sure she was still alive and well, he could get back into his ride and leave. 

“That thing still working? Have you got guzzoline?”

“Hm. Yeah.”

“Then follow me. I haven’t got all night. The boys are probably getting restless. I’ll take you to Capable.”

“Red hair. Goggles.”

“That’s right. She’ll give you whatever you need, but right now I’d say priorities are food and a good scrub. You look absolutely disgusting.”

Max was baffled. Well, maybe she was right. His hair hadn’t grown that much but the beard was starting to bother him a little.

“Come on, let’s go.”

He followed her to the gates, and she dismounted her bike, waving to one of the boys standing guard to approach them. 

“Hi, Wrench. This is Max. He’s a good friend of the Imperator’s and you must take good care of his wheels, got me?”

Wrench looked at Max’s car as if it was something beyond repair, but merely nodded. 

Max didn’t look like he wanted to leave his car in a stranger’s hand. Toast took pity on him.

“Don’t worry. Wrench’s our best. If someone can salvage this wreck, it is him.”

Max looked offended, but didn’t say anything. She led him through narrow passageways and long corridors, and the rise seemed endless to him. But it was okay, it was worth his trouble – he tried not to think of a branding iron and a cage – if he could only see her alive and breathing – maybe that would drive some of his nightmares away. 

Toast opened a door and he heard the sound of… giggling? 

The dark-haired girl – Cheedo, his memory whispered to him – had a book in her hands and was reading to the others. Capable was laughing heartily, and Dag was holding her hand over her mouth, looking amused. 

“Now listen,” – said Cheedo. “This is just priceless! ‘I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make me happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who would make you so’. Ha! She actually told the useless idiot he was just… an useless idiot.”

Toast huffed from the door. She had no patience for that reading nonsense. The three girls jumped, and suddenly Max felt very self-conscious. 

Cheedo stared at him, dumbfounded. She looked like she was seeing a ghost.

Dag made a funny movement with her hand and smiled. 

Capable’s eyes filled with tears and she stood up. “I had been wondering” – she said softly – “how long you’d take to come home”. She walked to him, slowly, careful of every step. “But I always knew you would.” 

Max shuffled his feet and ran a nervous hand over his hair. He didn’t know what to say. Where is she?

Capable touched his hand, so softly he could have imagined it. “I’ll take you to your room. One of the boys will bring you food and after that you can have a bath at the communal pool. I’ll find you some scissors and a razor, too.”

His room? 

She seemed to understand his puzzled look. “Furiosa had a room set for you when we rearranged the accommodations. She has an office in the Vault, but we have all moved out of there. Joe used the quarters on this level to welcome his guests, and we are comfortable here. I think you’ll like it,” she rambled. Max had stopped paying attention half way through. Where is she? 

He looked around. Toast had disappeared, Cheedo was looking at him fondly and Dag was playing with her hair. He stared at Capable. 

“Oh. Furiosa isn’t here, Max. I thought Toast had told you. She went on a diplomatic mission to Gastown with Ace and some of the surviving members of her crew. Relations with Gastown are still shaky, but with the People Eater gone, they have set up a council and are willing to talk. She’s supposed to come back in a few days.”

So he had been right in his assessment of the situation. The survivors would eventually make their way back to the Citadel, for better or worse. He felt relieved, since apparently their loyalty to her was unchanged. 

Capable sensed his disappointment. “She’ll be really happy to see you. She doesn’t say anything, but we all know she misses you. And honestly, we do, too,” she added candidly.

Max looked into her eyes for the first time since he’d arrived. Nothing there but tenderness and understanding, and behind that, a steely will he had to acknowledge and admire. She was remarkable. 

“Hm. I… I’m glad you’re okay. You’ve done well here.”

Capable smiled and took his arm gently. “Come with me. Cheedo, can we continue later? Dag, would you find Max some herbal soap and maybe some ointment? I’m sure there must be a wound or two under the dirt.”

He grunted, but followed her without complaint. Suddenly, the idea of washing and eating a hot meal seemed very, very appealing. He was frustrated, but Furiosa wouldn’t come back any sooner if he refused the girls’ hospitality. 

Capable took him to a room at the end of a long corridor. It was small, but it had an opening on the rock wall with a view to the desert, and he was touched. She must have had handpicked it for him, thinking of his need for solitude and his yearning for the road. There was a thin mattress with well-worn, thick blankets on one side of the room, and a table and chair on the other. 

He took his jacket and his boots off and sat down on the mattress. Capable shook her head. He looked definitively exhausted. 

“I’ll have one of the boys bring you dinner,” she said. We’ve been doing some experiments with the seeds the old Vuvalini gave to Dag. It’s not much yet, but the food is actually tasty.”

Max realized she was feeding him with tiny bits of information here and there. He was actually eager to know, but couldn’t bring himself to ask, so he was thankful.  
She smiled again and turned to leave, but he stopped her.

“Hm – C-Capable?”

He had never called any of them by name. Capable’s blue eyes widened. 

“Yes, Max?”

“Er – um – thank you.”

“You’re always welcome.”

***  
The former War Boy who brought him the food also handed him a cracked porcelain basin with warm water and a sweet-smelling bar of soap – he could at least wash his hands before his meal, something which seemed strangely familiar and utterly alien for him. His dinner consisted of a thick broth and a bowl of milk – he wondered if the Milking Mothers were still at work. 

He finished eating and walked to the tiny opening in the rock. The Wasteland was out there, illuminated by a thousand stars, but for the first time in many days he didn’t feel like answering its call. 

Bathing could wait. Max laid down on top of the mattress and fell into a dreamless, deep sleep.

***

He was woken by the sound of steps just outside the door. Instinct made him go for his weapons, but there wasn’t any at reach. Which was good, because shooting one of Furiosa’s boys on his first day back would probably cause trouble. 

A Pup opened the door. He should be about four thousand days old, and Max realized the boy wasn’t sure how to address him. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “Come in. I’m Max.”

“I’m Tray,” said the boy. “Hello.”

The Pup had brought him breakfast – a round, red fruit and another bowl of milk. “Miss Capable asked me to wait until you finished and see you to the bathing pool,” he informed. “She said you should tell me if there is anything you need. And Miss Toast said you can come down and see what Wrench is doing with your car.”

Max nodded. He ate quickly – it was quite unnerving to have a Pup waiting on him. The little boy took him to the bathing pool on one of the lower levels, and Max was relieved to notice it was empty. Only then he realized the time of the day. It was almost noon. He had slept for over ten hours. 

The Pup brought him a pair of scissors and a sharp razor, and he reckoned they’d come from Dag. Capable had sent him a change of clothes, so he decided to wash his old shirt and trousers. A bar of the same sweet-smelling soap from the previous night made shaving easy and he was actually pleased to feel clean again. There were some not-quite-healed wounds here and there, but nothing too uncomfortable. His brace, on the other hand, was a little rusty and some oiling would do it a world of good. 

He made his way back to his bedroom and found his jacket and pistol gone. 

Just when he was about to panic, Cheedo came into the room. 

“Oh, hi, Max! You look… good,” she said. 

He didn’t answer, but pointed out at the table where he’d left his things. Cheedo laughed. 

“Sorry about that. Your jacket needed some good cleaning and your pistol was, according to Toast, an accident waiting to happen. She said it’s a miracle it didn’t jam and backfire on you. You’re also out of ammo. She said she’s gonna take care of it and you owe her for it.”

Max grunted and nodded. 

“Oh, and we have news from Furiosa.”

He was putting on the black boots Capable had left for him –he’d identified them as the kind the War Boys used to wear – but his head shot up when he heard her name. Cheedo grinned. 

“She sent a party back. Negotiations are going well so she guessed they’d be more useful here. Ace and Marshall are with her, but the other boys all came back.”

“Um… when is she coming back?”

“In a couple of days. The boys say the Gastown folks are actually eager to make a deal. They can’t drink guzzoline, and we have plenty of water and milk, and will soon have a lot of food as well. Dag is doing a great job and the Vuvalini know one or two tricks of their own.”

“Is there anything I can do? Like, I could maybe help the boys at the garage?” Max needed to keep himself occupied, or else he’d end up going to Gastown on foot. 

“That seems like a great idea. We need all the hands we can get. Toast and Ace are supervising the building of a new Rig, and maybe you could be of use. Besides, Capable said something about your car being there.”

“Yeah, with some Wrench guy.”

“He’s our best mechanic, but he’s a bit too full of himself. Thinks some rides are below him. But Toast is very quick in showing him his place.”

“The boys must dread her. Hell, she scares me.”

“She’s actually a darling.”

Max shot her a doubtful look.

“Anyway, if you’re ready, I’ll show you the way.”

***


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little worldbuilding, Furiosa's POV

Furiosa looked up at the starlit sky and sighed. She was standing at one of the gates of Gastown – the smell of petrol permeated the whole place, and although she wouldn’t call it unpleasant, she needed to breathe some clean air. 

It had been a stressful, hard week, but she was satisfied with the outcomes of the negotiations with Gastown, and hoped things would run smoothly at Bullet Farm as well when the time came for some necessary trading. The three-month period after the fall of Immortan Joe had been a time of adjustment for both places, and nobody had entertained the thought of an attack to the Citadel when there were no leaders left alive and entire populations to shelter and feed. Gastown had set a council, led by one of the People Eater’s former bookkeepers – a sage old woman who was about five feet tall and could scare Ace with a steady gaze. They had agreed that the priority was to reestablish good relationships with their neighbours and, although they regarded Furiosa with some understandable suspicion – she had betrayed her own crew, after all – they were open to talk and their conditions were fair. 

Furiosa had no idea about the current situation at Bullet Farm, but they were apparently restructuring, too. The Gastown Elders had told Furiosa that the temporary state of peace meant they would be trading bullets for next to nothing and it would be a good opportunity to get their arsenals rebuilt, but Furiosa was much more interested in guzzoline – moving around was necessary, Toast and the garage boys were working on the new vehicles, and Joe had accumulated sufficient ammunition and weapons over the years to get them through one or two sieges. She didn’t believe in a massive attack to her gates. The Rock Riders were pissed at her but their resources were limited and they were not suicidal. 

She felt a sharp pain on her side and touched the scar left by the bone-handled knife. Capable and Cora, one of the surviving Vuvalini, worried about her constantly, scolding her for not sleeping and eating enough. She had spent only five days at the infirmary, as they now called the old Organic Mechanic’s domains. With an eye half shut and limping heavily, she had inspected the whole Citadel. The Milking Mothers, the remaining Vuvalini and the ex-Wives had done a hell of a job during those five first days, when she lied unconscious and numbed by exhaustion and pain. Corpus Colossus had killed himself shortly after he had heard the news of his father and brother’s deaths. A careless War Boy had approached him with a small knife in one of his pockets, and Corpus had grabbed the knife and cut his own throat. With all of Joe’s family gone, the chances of a rebellion were significantly reduced, even more so because most of the surviving War Boys were too sick or seriously wounded, and the Pups were simply too young. 

Furiosa had been overwhelmed with fear and joy when Toast came running into her makeshift office one afternoon and told her they had found Ace. Toast had been her right hand since she had woken up. She thought strategically and had a sharp mind. Capable had begged her to send a rescue team to the canyon as soon as things had settled down a little. Toast knew her sister was hoping to find Nux alive or at least give him a decent funeral, and when she told Capable to choose some trustworthy boys and pups to go, she felt a pang of guilt – her real purpose was to salvage as many car parts and weapons as possible, not to find any bodies or survivors. She didn’t believe anyone had survived, and she didn’t care about rotting bodies. She was positively shocked when a bloody, raging Ace was brought in by her rescue team.

Ace was devastated with the loss of his fellow War Boys and Furiosa’s betrayal. However, he had lived a hard life and was used to doing what it needed to be done. He didn’t understand Furiosa’s motivations, but he was a man of action, not of thought; he was trained for survival, and survive he did. As soon as Cheedo and Cora had declared him fit for working, he asked Toast for permission to train the older Pups to defend the Citadel and teach them to drive. She was afraid he would try to turn them against Furiosa, but the Imperator told her it would be good for him to feel useful and have a sense of companionship again. He hadn’t said a word to her since his return, even now, when he was his official escort. She missed talking to him, but gave him the space he seemed to need. Baby steps, she thought. One baby step at a time. 

“Imperator?” She had been so deep in thought she hadn’t heard Marshall approaching. He was one of the oldest Pups, about seven thousand days old, and relatively healthy. Ace had chosen him as his second-in-command and he had been Furiosa’s shadow since they’d left the Citadel. 

“Yes, Marshall? Everything set for tomorrow?”

“Ace says we should be leaving at dawn. We’ve loaded the guzz into the truck and we’re good to go. The Elders would like to see you now – apparently, there’s some moonshine involved, although I think it tastes of petrol.” He grimaced. 

Furiosa looked at him and smiled faintly. He had been trying so hard to please her, it was touching. In the beginning, the Pups and younger War Boys had thought she would simply replace Joe as a new ruler. Now, she was both feared and adored. They were well kept, well fed and well treated, and some had started to call her the Imperator Mother, much to her dismay. She didn’t want either title. 

“Is Ace having any of it?”

“Yes, Ma’am, and he’s acting a little funny already. Way things look, I’ll have to drive the truck myself tomorrow.” He looked at her expectantly.

“In your dreams, boy. If Ace’s too wasted to drive, I’ll take the wheel myself. You’re not ready yet.”

“Ace says I’m a good driver!”

“And he’s probably right, but you’re not ready to drive a long distance through the desert yet. I promise you will have your own ride sooner than you think, but for now I need you to keep an eye on the road for me.”

“Yes, Imperator. It will be an honour, Ma’am”.

She sighed. His eyes shone with adoration. “Now go to bed and have some decent sleep. I need you sharp and ready tomorrow.”

“Good night, Furiosa, Ma’am.”

Furiosa stood where she was until she could no longer hear the ruffle of Marshall’s boots on the sand. She needed to go and do the diplomacy – which she hated, but there was no other way for the moment. Capable and Cheedo could be great diplomats and negotiators in the future, but they were nowhere near ready; Capable was still too emotionally shaken, and Cheedo was simply too young. And Toast, bless her fiery heart, wasn’t made for state affairs. She spoke with guns and a strong fist. 

The sound of an engine roaring in the distance stopped her in her tracks as she was making her way back to Gastown’s council room. She was usually too busy, too exhausted or too worried to let herself think about Max. He had chosen to leave, and how could she blame him, when she so often wanted to run away herself? They were both creatures of the road, but she had responsibilities, and he had done much more than anyone had expected him to. All things considered, she owed him a lot more than he did her. She touched her wrist and felt her heartbeat – his blood and hers flowing together through her body. Furiosa was a pragmatic woman and she knew nothing of the romance thing Cheedo and the girls spent their spare time reading about, but she missed him in her bones. The bond of trust and blood between them was unbreakable, and even though she didn’t really believe she would ever see him again, she hoped. And she wondered – about his sanity, his safety, his hard-won freedom. Would he have forgiven himself? The Mothers knew she was still trying, and she’d had the love and support of the girls. He was alone. 

Furiosa shook her head, a wave of tiredness threatening to drown her. Tightening her scarf around her neck, she entered the council room. She was the Imperator of the Citadel. She had a job to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Cheedo found Max waist-deep into the hood of the Interceptor. He had spent the whole afternoon working with Wrench and the garage crew on the new Rig – a mammoth collage of old parts and random pieces of metal, proof of the talent of the Citadel’s welders and blacksmiths. Now they were all taking a break, and Max was still restless. 

She approached him with a bowl of fruit and a canteen. He hadn’t eaten anything since his late breakfast, apparently. She had brought him to the garage after his bath, and he had been there since then, diving into the mechanical work he loved doing. She touched his arm, careful not to startle him, and he looked up. 

“How’s the car?” She asked, giving him the canteen. 

Max gulped some water quickly. He probably didn’t notice the thirst anymore – until there was water at reach. 

“Mm. Pretty bad shape. Got blown up. Had to pull it out of the wreckage. In the canyon.”

“You went back there, then. Did you…”

“Hm. The War Boy was inside. Buried him in the sand. Nux, too. Left the others to rot.”

Cheedo felt a shiver running down her spine. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and when she looked at Max, her eyes were clear. He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened over the last months to change the scared girl into a woman. 

“Capable will appreciate it, Max. I’ll tell her. When Toast sent the rescue team out, she was hopeful, but they couldn’t even find his body… We didn’t think you’d go back there.”

“Hm. Needed to see. If there was any danger. And get my car.”

She looked at the wrecked frame of the Interceptor. It didn’t seem like it would ever run again, but after the Fury Road, she doubted very few things. Max seemed to be deeply attached to it. His car and his jacket, his only connections to Before, and he held on to them as if they were his lifeline. A deep feeling of affection surged in Cheedo’s heart. She wanted to hug him, crazy as it seemed; she had spent all their time together, three months earlier, terrified of him. 

“Have you eaten?” She asked, having forgotten about the fruit bowl. He looked at it, puzzled. “Dag and the Vuvalini are working on our garden. The seeds Dag got from the Keeper actually took. We have to be careful and ration the fruit for now, but it looks like we’ll be okay. Dag says we might even have some trees soon.”

“Mm. ‘S good. Thank you.” He took a bite from a yellow-greenish fruit and sucked the juice off his fingers, mindless of the engine grease. He still looked tired, thought Cheedo, but he seemed content working on his car, so she decided to let him be. Too much coddling could scare him away. 

“You’re welcome, Max.” She turned to leave, but changed her mind and faced him again. “Listen. I know I was a spoiled brat before. I never got to thank you what you did for us, and for Furiosa. And I honestly hope you will stay with us for a while.”

He was clearly taken aback. His eyes turned a deeper shade of blue as he looked at her fondly, almost affectionately. “Mm. No need to thank me. I’ll stay. For now. ‘S good, here.”

He hadn’t had any nightmares the night before, and that was saying a lot. Maybe he could stay for a while. Make himself useful. The voices hadn’t haunted him since he’d met Toast outside the gates. He thought he’d seen Glory watching him that afternoon, out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked up there were only Wrench and two Pups working beside him.

Cheedo smiled and walked away, a few Pups following her and fighting for her attention. Holding the half-empty bowl of fruit, Max sat down on the garage floor, his back to the wall, eyes scanning his surroundings even though he knew he couldn’t be anywhere safer. He had discovered that half the blackthumbs were in awe of him, to his shock and surprise. Apparently, they had the image of a road warrior kicking old Joe’s corpse off the Gigahorse plastered to their minds. Max had thought they didn’t come near him out of fear – in fact, they regarded him as some kind of God. The Imperator scarf just added more fuel to the fire. 

He looked up to see Wrench approaching, a tyre iron in his hand. He was indeed arrogant and full of himself, but he was also a hell of a mechanic. Max had seen him fixing an engine that looked beyond any hope, coated in rust. 

“Need a hand?”

Max was wary of letting someone touch his car, but it was actually worth a shot. Wrench hadn't dared to do more than bring the damaged vehicle to the garage, but seemed genuinely eager to help. “Mm. Sure. Can’t hurt.”

Wrench looked at the Interceptor as a child would look at a Christmas tree. He would never admit it, thought Max, but he probably wanted to fix that car desperately. His greasy face lit up.

He joined his hands, and Max recognized the V-8 symbol. A flash of wading through a flooded corridor blinded him for a second and a shiver ran down his spine. He was suddenly overwhelmed by an uncontrollable need to flee. 

Max jumped up and dashed out of the garage, into a passageway that led to the upper levels. He needed to breathe. He ran straight into Toast, who was coming down from the former Vault.

“Whoa, Fool. Slow down. What’s the hurry?”

Max felt as if an iron hand was squeezing his lungs. His shirt became soaked with cold sweat and he started to feel dizzy. Toast spat out the toothpick she was chewing on and grabbed his hand, pulling him. “Come with me. Come on. Move.”

He didn’t know how they’d got there, but after a few minutes they were standing on the top of the mountain and surrounded by green. The humid air filled his lungs and his eyes watered. He could see the desert down there. A pang of longing hit his chest. 

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong with you, Fool? Thought you were feeling better.”

He looked at the tiny woman standing beside him, her expression a mix of worried and amused. She would be hell on wheels, if taught properly, Max wondered. He almost laughed at the idiocy of the thought. His mind was a real piece of work.

“’M fine. ‘S just… bad memories.”

“Welcome to Joe’s club. Happens to all of us, I’m afraid. Can I help?”

He sat on the grass, absently rubbing his bad knee and shaking his head.

“Furiosa should be back soon.”

He looked up. She was as sharp as a knife. But then again, all of them knew he wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for the Imperator. He didn’t even know what he’d say to her, if he’d be able to say anything at all. But he needed to see her. She was living proof that he hadn’t failed once again. Maybe that was why he could sleep without nightmares in the room she had set for him. 

“For the life of me, I don’t know what she sees in you. We were all dumbfounded when she told Capable to set a room for you. I thought it was a waste of space, frankly. Dag seemed to agree – she kept mumbling “schlanger” every time your name was mentioned. But Capable and Cheedo always said you’d come back. Furiosa doesn’t say anything. Hell, she doesn’t say much at all. But she spends more time in your room than in ours, and prefers to sleep alone in your bed than with us.”

Max shook his head. Furiosa slept in his bed? He tried very hard not to think of it. Toast kept rambling on. She suddenly looked grim. 

“She spent almost three days unconscious and the first thing she did when she woke up was asking for you. She didn’t even remember your name. And the only time I’ve seen her scolding any of us since we got back to this shithole was when Dag called you a coward for leaving. Dag hasn’t forgiven you, you know. She will smile at you and send you good food, but she hasn’t forgotten how you left us. Nor have I, by the way.” Her voice was heavy with bitterness and sizzling anger.

Max looked at her, his eyes more gray than the usual deep blue. “Had to go. Couldn’t stay. Too much…”

“Too much what? You have bad memories? What about us? What about HER? Didn’t you think we’d need your help? That we could have been attacked, that some crazy War Boy could have killed us all in our sleep? You have no idea how it was like in the first days, you idiot. I don’t think you’re a coward, but for all the Mothers, I can’t understand why you bothered saving her life just to walk away some hours later.”

Max looked at the green grass at his feet and kept quiet. There was nothing he could say that would make her understand. She surely had her share of past horrors, but no ghosts haunted her every second. No voices filled her head. 

“Don’t jump off the cliff, Fool. She’ll probably have me killed.” He kept his eyes down, listening to Toast’s steps as she left. Laying down, he wished he had his jacket to use as a pillow, resting his head on a small pile of dry leaves. He looked at the infinite sky above, closed his eyes and surrendered to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

As the first lights of dawn coloured the desert sky, Furiosa sipped water from her canteen and watched Ace and Marshall doing the last checks before they left. The vehicle they had was something similar to an old tank truck, modified to accommodate some necessary weaponry. Ace, eyes still red from too much moonshine, took the wheel while Marshall rode shotgun. Furiosa got into the backseat, eyes on the road and flesh hand on the trigger of a light pistol. She didn’t think they’d run into trouble, but she wouldn’t take any chances. 

Furiosa had never thought she would ever miss the Citadel. But after a week of tiring negotiations and endless talks, she longed for the familiar sounds and smells of the garage, and the comfort of the room she shared with the girls most nights. Sometimes, though, she needed silence and solitude and spent the night in Max’s room – it was strategically located at the end of a long corridor and the small opening in the rock, with a view of the desert, was achingly appealing to her. She liked to think he’d feel the same way if – when – he returned. 

Staring at the road ahead, Furiosa smeared a little more grease on her forehead, hoping to protect her eyes from the glare of the morning sun. Ace and Marshall had done the same, and for a moment she thought it was like old times, going on a supply run with her crew, forgetting for a while that she was a pawn on Joe’s board game. She sighed. She wasn’t the kind of woman who’d lament what she could not have, or what she had lost, although the memories of her mother, the fallen Vuvalini and Val were precious. But she couldn’t help thinking some things could have been just a little different, that she could have done just a little more. Angharad, beautiful, splendid Angharad was her only regret. Val was a warrior. Nux had found his Valhalla. Angharad was a delicate thing with a brave heart who had no idea of what to expect outside the Citadel’s walls. 

And Max. She had nothing to regret about him. She could understand his motives for leaving, even. But sometimes the burden was too much to bear and she wished he was there to share it with her, once again – to lend her a steady hand and a sure aim. She was tired of looking behind her back all the time. During those days on the Fury Road, she’d known she had her back covered, that if something happened to her the girls would be taken care of. It was trust like she’d never known before, but not just that – she and Max had shared a connection that she had never thought possible, even with her crew. It was as he knew where she was at any given time, as if he could read her mind and predict her next move. And she missed that. She missed him. 

Toast and Dag had held a grudge against him since he’d left. Toast, her practical, pragmatic Toast, repeatedly let her know how angry she was that he’d simply left them to deal with all the post-Joe chaos. They’d been lucky Corpus had chosen the easiest way out and finished himself. He could have started a rebellion, as Joe’s only heir. They’d been even luckier Gastown and Bullet Farm were also reconstructing and had no war plans. Ace’s return had somehow eased Furiosa's worries, since he was an experienced soldier who could drive, shoot and give orders, and could train Toast. But she still resented Max. 

Dag, on the other hand, called him a schlanger and said he was no different from any other man; she seemed to have forgotten he’d saved Furiosa’s life, complaining that he didn’t care about any of them and thought only of himself. Furiosa tried to understand the girl’s sorrow – her pregnancy was difficult and she would cry for nothing – but snapped at her one day when she called Max a coward. That had been too much.

***

“He’s not a coward. He could have left us many times before. The Mothers know he had plenty of chances. He could have left us when we decided to cross the salt. He had no obligation to come back to the Citadel and fight with us. For us.”

Dag looked at her, holding her swollen belly. “He left us and didn’t care if Joe’s boys would shred us. If you’d die. You almost died. He just turned his back at us.”

Furiosa ran her flesh hand through her short curls, tired. “Dag. What did Angharad say? We are not things. He’s not a thing, either. He’s free to make his own choices.”

“But why didn’t he choose us?”

She had no answer for that. Cheedo and Capable seemed to look at things differently. Capable's brief affair with Nux had changed her irrevocably – and she had an uncanny ability to look at Furiosa when the older woman was at her most melancholic, giving her a reassuring smile and squeezing her hand affectionately as if she knew what Furiosa was thinking. When Furiosa had asked Capable to set a room for Max, the girl didn’t even flinch. No questions asked. Toast had huffed and puffed, saying she couldn’t understand why they would bother. Max could have helped them but he was just a stranger who’d walked away looking for who knew what. Dag had kept quiet, but Furiosa could see the anger and disappointment in the girl’s eyes. Cheedo, on the other hand, was surprisingly eager to help.

“I don’t get you, Cheedo. You didn’t say a word to him for three days. You were terrified of him.” Toast shot her an irritated look. 

“I was terrified of him. I thought he’d hurt us. He almost shot Furiosa. But in the end, he saved her, didn’t he? That’s what counts.” She opened one of Miss Giddy’s old wardrobes and found some blankets and a battered pillow. “Here, Capable. When he comes back, he will surely need a comfortable place to sleep.”

Toast glared at her. “Oh, that’s priceless. He’ll live in more comfort than bag-of-shit-Joe, if he has the nerve to show his face here again. Go and make his bed, I have real work to do.” She grabbed a knife and a small pistol and left, stomping her feet. 

Furiosa sat down and shook her head, looking at Capable with affection. They hadn’t been too close before the Fury Road, but now the redhead was almost a friend. “Thank you, Capable. Just leave the blankets there. And please make sure the door has a lock." 

Capable nodded. No explanations asked, once again. Furiosa looked at Cheedo, who had laid down on the cushions with Dag, holding the pregnant girl close and whispering something in her ear. “And thank you, Cheedo. That was… thoughtful.”

“We’ll make him feel welcome when he comes back, and he won’t want to leave again. Just give him time.” Furiosa was constantly amazed by Cheedo’s youthful innocence – and even more so by the young woman’s fierce determination since their return. “There’s nothing out there but sand and lizards, anyway.”

Furiosa let out a sharp laugh at the ridiculousness of the observation. Grabbing her new prosthetic arm, she headed out to the garage. 

*** 

Lost in thoughts and memories, Furiosa didn’t notice a few hours had passed. She could already see the Citadel at the distance, and hear the rumble of the scouts’ motorbikes. Home. She was going home. Going back to her girls – and her people, who depended on her and whose respect and loyalty she was fighting hard to earn. She still felt crushed by a heavy sense of duty, but realized suddenly that maybe that was the redemption she’d been looking for. 

Ace blared the truck’s horn and fanged it – and as Toast approached their vehicle on her motorbike, Furiosa felt something she’d longed for since forever. A sense of belonging. 

The Imperator smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter - and, yes, a cliffhanger! Thank you for the kudos and the feedback. Love you all.

Max had laid low since his confrontation with Toast. His flashback at the garages – Wrench’s respectful tribute to the Interceptor had triggered memories of his captivity that he had been struggling to ignore – had shaken him deeply, so much that he started to question his decision of coming back at all. That he was actually considering a lengthy stay, he couldn’t even process at the moment. He stayed where she had left him for the night. Capable had appeared near midnight with a bowl of milk and a piece of jerky that he accepted silently. Toast had probably told the redhead of his whereabouts and, if she hadn’t mentioned their conversation, Capable was sensible enough to notice he wanted to be left alone. 

When he woke up, the sun was high in the sky and his back was screaming from the half-sitting position. Nothing he wasn’t used to, but now he had a comfortable mattress to sleep on, it seemed idiotic to pass the opportunity. He wanted to work on his car, but didn’t feel like facing Wrench and his boys. Nor he wanted to be in the kitchen, under the scrutiny of the Vuvalini and the Milking Mothers, even though his stomach rumbled a little. Two days in the Citadel, with easy access to food and water, and his body was already getting spoiled. 

Max managed to get to his room without being stopped by adoring Pups or bumping into any of the girls. He found a bowl of water and some dried fruit on the table – Cheedo or Capable, surely. He couldn’t fathom why the two girls treated him so kindly. He didn’t actually think he’d done much. Compared to all his failures, whatever success he had found on the Fury Road seemed little to him, and he was thankful for the chance to help Furiosa and her girls, to fight for a righteous cause as he had in the past – but his guilt and remorse were his permanent companions. 

Silent companions, since he’d arrived to the Citadel, which threw him for a loop. The first time, his mind had nearly drowned in the screams and accusation from a cast of voices that never seemed to quiet. Jessie, Sprog, Goose, Glory, and so many nameless victims of his recklessness, his vengeance, his mistakes. But for the two previous nights, he had been blessed with a dreamless, heavy sleep. In the desert, during the days of his self-inflicted banishment, they had whispered to him, but not screamed. He still woke up alarmed in the middle of the night, swinging at absent attackers, but not as often as before. Max started to wonder if that wasn’t just another crueler variation of insanity, the kind that gave you hope. 

He noticed his jacket was draped over the back of the chair by the table. It was still a ruin, of course, but after cleaned and oiled, it looked much better, and he noticed some careful stitches here and there. His pistol was still missing – he’d have to ask Toast for it later. He felt naked when unarmed. 

Deciding that he needed to occupy himself, Max thought fixing his brace would be a good idea – he could do it in his room, enjoying the peace and quiet, and wouldn’t have to see anyone. Cheedo was probably at the infirmary at that time, and maybe he could get some tools from her.

He thought it was a fortunate coincidence when he heard approaching footsteps on the corridor. If Cheedo or Capable had come to see him, maybe he could ask them for the tools without leaving the room. And he could ask them about any news of Furiosa.

As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary. Opening the door, Max found himself staring at the Imperator herself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For abelard, who was waiting for this reunion. Hope you like it.

When Furiosa climbed off the tanker truck, she was greeted by Toast with a hug and a nod. Ace immediately disappeared into the bowels of the Citadel, surely having missed what was left of his crew and craving some bonding. Marshall, on the other hand, stayed by her side, wary of anything or anyone that could mean any danger to Furiosa. 

“I’m so glad to be back,” she said to Toast with a heavy sigh. “Seriously, I wasn’t made for diplomacy. Someone else will have to take charge of these missions. I just don’t know who I could send.”

“You might not like it, but you’re the one who’s ruling the Citadel. It has to be you, Furiosa. No one else would be given the same respect.”

“At least everything went well. We have enough guzzoline to last us a while, there’s no immediate need of weapons… and the Elder woman who’s leading the Gastown council is a tough one, but she’s sensible and smart. She’s a nightmare at the negotiation table, but her conditions are fair.”

“Let’s just hope whoever took the reigns at Bullet Farm is not a total nutcase.”

“I’m not worried about them for now. It’s very unlikely they will attack us. Everyone’s a bit lost, just like us. Rebuilding is hard work.”

“Tell me about it.” Furiosa looked at Toast proudly. The girl was hardworking and fiercely loyal to her. Nothing seemed to be too tiring, too difficult or too much for her. “By the way, I have some news for you. Apparently, your observation skills got a little weaker. Must have been the fumes you inhaled in Gastown.”

Furiosa’s brows went up and she tensed. “What do you mean, Toast?”

“One would think the Imperator would notice there’s a new vehicle in the garage.”

Furiosa turned her head so quickly Toast thought her neck would snap. Her blue eyes zeroed in the Interceptor immediately and the younger woman saw her tremble. It’d be imperceptible for anyone who didn’t know Furiosa well.

“Is he hurt?”

“Few bruises and scrapes. Refused the infirmary, so Capable gave him some medicine and he took care of himself.”

Furiosa’s relief was so visible on her face that Toast felt a knot on her throat. “He’s in his room,” she said. “Capable and Cheedo have been taking care of him, and he even did some work here, with Wrench. But he’s edgy and restless. He’d probably leave again if you took too long to come back, I guess.”

Furiosa took a deep breath and squeezed Toast’s hand. She seemed to have lost the power of speech. “Go see him,” said Toast. “I’ll take care of things here. And I’ll let the girls know you’re back.”

Marshall, who had been watching the conversation from a respectful distance, approached again when Furiosa turned to leave. “Stay with Toast, Marshall,” she told him. “I’ll be fine.”

He nodded, turning to Toast as if expecting his next orders, but Furiosa didn’t wait to hear them. She broke into a half-run, trying to catch her breath. Damn him and his hold on her – she was the fucking Imperator, not one of Cheedo’s romance novel heroines, and yet her heart was racing and her hands were shaking as if she’d lost all her blood again. 

She paused when she got to his door, unsure of what to do, what to say and what to think. She was trying to decide if she’d knock on the door or simply open it, when he anticipated her move once again and stepped out of the room.

He was just like she remembered, and at the same time completely different. He’d lost some of the haunted look in his eyes, and didn’t seem like he was ready to pounce at any second; he seemed somehow more in control of himself. Furiosa opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t utter a word. She looked at him, who seemed rooted at the spot, equally speechless.

Max’s hand was suddenly at her waist, his eyes focusing on her side. She shivered, the ghost of a sharp pain coming back to haunt her for a second. 

“Healed,” she finally whispered. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “All healed.”

“’M sorry,” he said, an echo of a hundred days past.

“You saved me. What are you sorry for?”

“Leaving,” he murmured, fingers moving over her scarred skin, soft as a feather.

Furiosa touched the back of his head, just enough to bring his eyes to hers. “You’re here, now.”

“Mm.”

“Will you stay?”

There was a flicker of panic on his face, but he controlled it. “Mm. For now. If you’ll let me.”

She smiled. “This is your home, Max. You’re always welcome here.” He finally looked her straight in the eyes, as if hearing her speak his name had disabled some kill switch on his brain. He looked exhausted, a tiredness that was beyond physical, but his gaze was clear and lucid.

“Furiosa,” he said, trying the syllables of her name like learning a new language. She didn’t want to scare him or overwhelm him, but the months of longing and wondering and wanting decided for her, and she stepped forward, right into his personal space, so close she could hear him breathing. 

He finally opened his arms to her, and Furiosa walked into his embrace with a certainty she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. “Welcome back, Max”, she said. “Welcome home.”


	7. Chapter 7

They did not move for some time. Max was struggling not to step back – he wasn’t used to being in close proximity to a human being anymore, except when fighting – and didn’t really know what to do besides keeping his arms around her and his hands on her waist. Furiosa, on the other hand, seemed to be much more comfortable with the physicality of it; she wrapped her arm around his neck, burrowing her face on the side of his neck and holding the hem of his shirt with his prosthetic hand. He’d forgotten she was just a bit taller. She smelled of grease and dirt, and he closed his eyes, forcing his muscles to relax and his breathing to slow. He realized he hadn’t been ready for the reality of her presence, after all. 

She finally raised her head and looked at him. “How are you? Are the girls treating you well?”

He shrugged. “’M fine. You… did well here. ‘S good.”

She gave him a lopsided smile, her hand still on the back of his neck. She looked exhausted. There were bags under her eyes and Max thought she felt too thin in his arms. “You should rest. Eat. Still healing.”

She stepped out of his embrace, running her hand over her head. “I need to talk to the girls. We should have a meeting soon. I should…” 

“Rest.” He stepped aside, opening the door to his room more widely. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before going in. Max closed the door behind him, his eyes fixed on her back. She was tense again and her spine was ramrod straight. He approached her slowly, giving her time to get used to the semi-darkness, and touched the uppermost strap of her prosthetic arm. 

“Let me help you with this.”

She nodded, turning her head just enough he could make out her profile. He removed the mechanical arm, marveling at the functionality of the apparatus. It wasn’t as sophisticated as her old one, but it was lighter and it looked extremely efficient. 

She rubbed her stump, rolling her shoulders and sighing tiredly. “Now lie down. I’ll go down to the kitchen and bring you some food.”

Furiosa looked a bit puzzled and he realized the oddity of the situation. Three days back, and he already knew his way to the kitchen, and felt comfortable enough to order her around. He feared he was overstepping his boundaries. This was her place, after all. “Hm. Sorry. Didn’t mean to be… patronizing, or anything. You just… look tired, is all.”

She was still looking at him, but her eyes went soft and she sat on his makeshift bed. “Help me with my boots?”

He crouched beside her, untying the laces and removing her boots slowly. Her feet were swollen, and he wondered how long she’d been up, walking or standing. He wanted to rub her feet, make her feel better – he had a quick flashback of Jessie’s swollen ankles and moisturizing balm – but didn’t want to assume. 

Furiosa laid back slowly on the bed, pulling one of the blankets over her shoulders, shivering. It must be getting late. “I’m not really hungry,” she said. “Just tired.”

He had stood up, still holding one of her boots. She held her hand out to him, a silent invitation. 

Max dropped her boot on the floor, crouched down again to remove his own, and joined her in bed. She laid on her side, her flesh hand still outstretched, fingers curled. He took her hand and laid down facing her, making sure to keep a safe distance, not wanting to crowd her. She moved a bit closer, burrowing her face on the blanket and closing her eyes.  
He watched as her body relaxed, little by little, as her breathing became slow and steady, as she drifted into deep sleep. Her hand kept its grip on his, though, as if he was some sort of anchor that kept her safe from rough waters. 

Max thought that was as close to a home as he’d felt in forever, and let himself surrender to sleep, too.

***

Hours later, when Capable came to check on them, she was astounded at the scene before her.

Sometime in the night, they had moved towards each other. Max was lying on his back, face turned to the door, and Furiosa was half-draped across his body. She had laid her head on his shoulder and thrown her arm over his chest, and he had one arm loosely wrapped around her waist. They looked utterly at peace.

Capable closed the door silently, afraid to disturb them. She made her way down to the kitchen slowly. She couldn’t help but thinking about Nux. It was pointless, but one way or another, he never left her thoughts. 

Toast was leaning against one of the kitchen tables, munching on a piece of stale bread. She was an expert at concealing her feelings; Capable’s face was an open book. She arched an eyebrow when the red-haired girl entered the kitchen.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, in her no-bullshit way.

“Nothing’s wrong. They’re sleeping.”

Toast’s eyebrow almost disappeared into her hairline. “Sleeping? As in together? In the same bed?”

“In his bed, yeah. I reckon she was exhausted.”

“Too exhausted to come back to her own room to sleep?”

Capable looked at Toast sternly. Sometimes the girl was just obtuse. 

“Do you really think she’d leave him alone after waiting three months for his return? Come on, Toast. Don’t be silly. Besides, she sleeps in his room all the time.”

“I don’t understand. He’s just a man. What would she want with a man? Why bother?”

“He saved her life.”

“And she saved his. Many times over. Big deal.”

“You know we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t him, don’t you?”

“Who knows? We might as well have crossed the salt.”

“We made the decision to come back together. He didn’t force his will upon us. You agreed, if I remember well.”

Toast kept munching on her bread. She looked annoyed.

Capable sighed and sat down. She reached for the bottle of water on the table, filling a cup and taking a healthy gulp. 

“What do you think he came back for?” asked Toast. “He looks like he’ll bolt any second.”

“I hope he doesn’t, for her sake,” said Capable. “She would never admit it, but she missed him badly. I wouldn’t want to see her hurt again.”

“Isn’t this what men do? Hurt us? She would be a fool if she expected any different from him.”

“Toast… you don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

Capable looked at her sister fondly. She stood up, ruffled Toast’s cropped hair and kissed the top of her head.

“If you have to ask, there’s nothing I can tell you. I’m going to bed. You coming?”

“No, I still want to do some work on the Rig. Too revved up to sleep.”

“Well, good night, then.” 

Toast nodded as she left. Capable was beyond tired, but didn’t feel like sleeping either. Instead of going to their room, she decided to go the terrace, yearning for some fresh air.

And then a loud, terrified scream broke the Citadel’s silence.


	8. Chapter 8

Furiosa woke up slowly. She had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep, overcome with exhaustion and overwhelmed by her reunion with Max. She felt drowsy, and disoriented, like she had just after returning to the Citadel, when Capable and Cora kept her drugged to keep her still and in no pain. 

They must have moved during the night, because she found herself lying on Max’s chest, her head against his shoulder, her face tucked into the side of his neck. He was sleeping soundly, his arm around her waist, and didn’t even move when she sat up, rubbing her eyes and face. A stream of moonlight coming from the window lit up Max’s face, and she spent long minutes looking at him, thinking.

He mumbled something in his sleep and turned. He’d cut his hair very short, even shorter than before, and she noticed a healing cut on his forehead and a fading bruise on his temple. The wasteland hadn’t treated him kindly. What had kept him so long? She could understand his craving for the road, for the freedom and vastness of the desert, as those were things she cherished herself. But she also found some deserved, needed solace in the girls’ love and friendship, the old Vuvalini’s advice and wisdom, her crew’s loyalty to her. It was a new sense of belonging to her, and she couldn’t imagine ever giving it up.

Max, on the other hand, seemed to feel better alone. He made his own way; he’d told her in so many words. She wondered what horrors he must have been through to withdraw into himself like that. He was clearly an intelligent, resourceful man. He wouldn’t have survived out there for so long otherwise. But even his language skills had been affected by the long time of solitude and isolation, as he still had difficulty in expressing himself with words. 

She had grown accustomed to the girls’ tender touches, hugs and kisses and the Vuvalini’s gentle hands over the last three months, and even though she still felt a little uneasy sometimes, she had started to learn to reciprocate. She was surprised by her own forwardness, touching and hugging Max like that, earlier. He was clearly reticent and unsure, just touching the wound he’d inflicted on her as if making sure it’d been real, but she had practically thrown herself at him. She didn’t know what to make of that.

Furiosa sighed in frustration. He kept sleeping peacefully, and she was just about to lay back beside him when a loud, terrified scream made her jump to her feet, alarmed. Max woke up immediately, reaching blindly for a weapon that wasn’t there, eyes wild and unfocused.

“It came from the girls’ bedroom,”, she told him, running to the door barefoot, leaving her prosthetic behind. He was beside her in a second, pushing his body between hers and the door, an unconscious gesture of protection she didn’t miss in her haste.

He almost bumped into Cheedo, who was running down the corridor, her long hair loose around her shoulders and a panicked look in her eyes. “It’s Dag,” she said. “Her water just broke. The baby’s coming!” She turned, and ran back to the girls’ quarters. 

Furiosa looked at Max, alarmed. His face had blanched and he looked like he’d been shot.

“Are you ok?”

He shook his head and couldn’t look her in the eyes. Furiosa groaned and ran her hand over her head, feeling lost and frustrated. “Max, listen to me. I need to go and see Dag. Are you going to be ok?”

They could hear Dag screaming and the low whispers of the women tending to her. “Can’t… can’t be there,” he said, voice low and trembling. “Just… give me something to do. Anything.”

“There are scouts on patrol. You could join them, if you want. Take a bike. Just… promise me you won’t leave.”

Her voice wavered, and he looked at her worried face. He knew she didn’t want or need his pity, but he felt really sorry for her. It seemed she never had the chance to rest. “Won’t leave. Wanna help.”

She touched his hand, and just when she was turning around, he held her wrist. “Furiosa. If she needs blood… send for me.”

What a generous soul, she thought. After all he’d been through, after having been treated like a thing, he was still willing to give whatever he had. “I will,” she said. “Thank you.”

He nodded and she started to run, leaving him standing on the corridor, a forlorn look on his face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shameless stole a line of dialogue from the first Avengers movie. Not sorry at all.

It wasn’t an easy birth – when had anything been easy for them? – but it was finally over, and Dag slept peacefully, holding her infant son in her arms. It hadn’t been a girl, after all, and Furiosa would never admit but she felt some guilty relief. Men fared much better in that world of theirs, and even though the Citadel and Gastown were currently ruled by women, she knew well the privileges of being a man. The baby was healthy and strong, and neither he or his mother needed Max’s assistance bloodwise. Furiosa was glad. He’d give it away gladly, but if he could be spared any more pain, so much the better.

Cora and Capable had told everyone to go to sleep. Cheedo would take first watch in the nursery – a little alcove adjacent to the girls’ room they had set up for the baby, with a single bed and a cradle Ace had built out of car parts. The others went to the kitchen, craving warmth, food and water, and a little bonding as well. 

Furiosa collapsed onto one of the kitchen benches, hands still covered in blood, and laid her head on the table. She was hungry and weary and she didn’t know whether to eat or sleep first. Cora and the two other Vuvalini got busy at the stove, warming up some broth and whispering softly. Toast sat on the table and absently stroke Furiosa’s head, while Capable took a seat near the hearth, shivering. 

“Well, it wasn’t that bad, after all,” said Toast, grabbing a bottle of water and drinking straight from it. That earned her a stern look from Capable.

“Use a cup, Toast. I think Dag would disagree with you, but then again, it wasn’t you there giving birth, was it?” The unusual bitterness in the redhead’s voice made Furiosa raise her head. 

“I just meant it could have been much worse. She could have died. The baby could have died, or be a hideous thing like his…” She spat, a disgusted look on her face. “Things could have got ugly and we’d have to call Bloodbag to play hero again.”

Furiosa stood up abruptly, her eyes flashing anger. “Don’t you dare call him that.”

Toast seemed to ignore the warning signs on Furiosa’s face, because she kept on rambling. “If I remember well, it was him who refused to tell us his name from the beginning, and you have a little nickname of your own to him. Most of us here have names that describe our purpose, after all.”

Capable gasped, and the three Vuvalini turned their heads. 

Furiosa had no idea why the girl was acting in such an idiotic way, but she was too tired to get into a fight. Besides, arguing with Toast was usually a waste of time. She loved the girl dearly, but Toast could be a pain in the ass. 

“If I hear you referring to him disrespectfully again, you’ll be on kitchen duty for a week. Consider yourself warned.”

“Oh, that’s rich! So now we have to bow our heads every time he passes by? Hail the Emperor!”

“That’s enough, Toast,” said Capable, touching her sister’s arm. Furiosa looked pale and absolutely enraged.

“I’ll ignore what you just said because all of us are tired and had a very difficult night. As I said, consider yourself warned.”

Furiosa left the kitchen, having lost any hunger. She just wanted to lie down and sleep for three days. She decided to go and sleep in her office, which she sometimes used as a bedroom. Sharing a bed with Max in her current state of mind would be definitely a bad move. 

She hadn’t been there five minutes when Capable’s voice came from the hall.

“Furiosa?”

“Come in,” she answered, removing her pants and shirt and dropping on the bed half-naked. 

“She didn’t really mean that, you know.” 

“Capable, seriously, I’m too tired to talk.”

The younger girl nodded. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You spent most of the past months sleeping in his bedroom, and now he’s here...”

“He’s still on patrol. And I don’t want to impose on him. He likes to be on his own.”

“I don’t think he’d see your presence as an imposition. He spent the last three days scanning the horizon every five seconds for you.”

Furiosa laid her head heavily on the pillow. She felt the beginnings of a migraine creeping in. 

“Look, Capable, I’m exhausted. And you have to be, too. Go to sleep.”

“Dodging the subject won’t make it disappear, you know.”

“Capable.”

“All right. Good night, Furiosa. If you need me…”

“I know. Thank you.”

The redhead finally left, and despite of her tiredness, Furiosa couldn’t get to sleep. She tossed and turned on the cot, unable to relax, and just when she’d decided to get up and find something to do just to get busy, Cora came in with something sweet-smelling in her hands. 

She crouched beside the cot and handed Furiosa a bowl with a greenish liquid. Hmm. Tea.

“Drink up.”

Furiosa took a sip. The tea was almost too sweet and scalding hot. 

“What is it?”

“Doesn’t matter. It will help you to rest. You’re too agitated. You’ll end up having a nervous breakdown, girl.”

“It’s just… too much. All at once.”

“I have eyes. I see what’s going on. You’ll give everything you’ve got for these girls and this place, my dear, and someone needs to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself, Cora.”

“I know. Everybody knows. But, Furiosa – admitting you need someone to take a little of this burden off your shoulders isn’t a sign of weakness. And maybe you could let that boy of yours help you a bit.”

“He isn’t mine. It’s not like that.”

“Oh. How is it like, then?”

“I trust him. I feel… it’s like he knows what I’m thinking. What needs to be done. He’s… reliable.”

“And that’s why you were sleeping in his bed.”

“You’re starting to sound like Capable.”

“Capable, the mothers bless her, isn’t afraid of what she feels. The poor girl is still in mourning, but she accepts things as they are. You, child, are terrified.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying, Cora.”

“Oh, yes, you do. You just chose to pretend you don’t. The truth, dear, is that you’re in love with that wastelander of yours, and have been since you were driving that rig together. And from what I saw when he almost bled himself dry to save your life, he feels exactly the same.”

“Love is for children, Cora. It’s something out of Cheedo’s romance novels. I owe him a debt.”

“You owe him nothing. You did a lot for each other. He certainly didn’t come back here expecting any kind of reward. He came back for you.”

Furiosa shook her head, gulping down the rest of the tea, feeling drowsy already.

“Now, get some sleep and try to clear this stubborn head of yours tomorrow. This conversation isn’t over.”

Furiosa pulled the blanket over her head and stretched out her stiff limbs. She tried not to think about tomorrow. Closing her eyes with a heavy sigh, she finally succumbed to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For FreyaRides, with special thanks for the encouragement :)

Max sat atop his bike, holding a telescope with cracked lenses Ace had given him. His forehead was covered with grease, to protect his eyes from the glare of the sun. He was quite taken aback when one of the Pups had approached him and spread the thick substance over his eyes, but didn’t flinch or step back. He was feeling less and less edgy, more comfortable as the days passed, and he honestly didn’t know what to make of that. 

The Wasteland was quiet, its silence only broken occasionally by the sounds coming from the Citadel. From his vantage point on the top of a rock, Max could see the green tops of the impressive structure and almost hear the hustle and bustle below. The sun was high in the sky and he reckoned he’d been on patrol for at least 12 hours. It should have been close to midnight when Dag’s scream had woken them, but he’d managed to get a few hours of sleep and didn’t feel tired at all. 

A little hungry, perhaps. He opened the small satchel he’d gotten at the kitchen from one of the Vuvalini, who’d smiled at him and patted him on the back while giving him provisions. There was a large canteen full of fresh water and some dry jerky in it, along with his Imperator scarf, which he’d returned to his bedroom to pick up. It protected him from the heat, but he knew that wasn’t the actual reason he wanted to wear it. 

He wrapped the soft piece of cloth around his neck and chewed on a piece of jerky. He didn’t want to think about Dag. He was afraid to know what had happened, so he stayed put, even though most of the scouts he’d been working with had already been replaced by a second team. He felt a little guilty for leaving, when things could easily go wrong and he may be of service, universal donor that he was – but he also trusted Furiosa to send for him if things got difficult. She, as always, seemed to understand. 

The roar of another motorcycle approaching made him jump, and he put the jerky back into the satchel, looking through the telescope lens to see if it was any threat. He felt at the same time relieved and alarmed when he saw Toast coming his direction.

When she finally reached him, she removed her goggles and spat on the sand. 

“Fuck, it’s hot as hell. Why are you roasting yourself up here?”

Max shrugged.

“In case you’re interested, Dag and the baby survived. She had a boy. Ugly little thing, but I’m not going to tell her that.”

“Hmm. They okay?”

“As much as they’re expected to be. Things happened quite fast after her water broke. That silly girl didn’t tell anyone she’d been feeling pain for hours. Thank the mothers, the baby is small and she didn’t lose much blood.” She glanced at his face. He was looking at the horizon and his expression was completely unreadable. 

“Capable and the Vuvalini ordered Furiosa to get some sleep, but she’s up again and asked me to come and get you.” She grinned. “Guess she’s punishing me because I called you Bloodbag last night.”

Max’s eyes met hers for a fraction of a second, then fixed on the horizon again.

“Look, I’ll be honest. It’s not that I dislike you. It’s just that… I don’t like you, either. I don’t trust men. I trust my crew as a team, but I don’t need anything from them as individuals. I realize you’ve done a lot for us, but I’m sure you know you’d still be wearing that muzzle if it wasn’t for Furiosa.”

He didn’t say anything, but could understand her reasoning. She was right. He and Furiosa had worked together, in equal terms, during the Fury Road. They didn’t owe each other anything. They were even, although she seemed to disagree.

Max imagined she felt like that because he’d saved her life, with that desperate measure of stabbing her and giving her his blood. He could understand she felt indebted to him. But he felt equally so – she’d welcomed him into her home and treated him with a respect and kindness he hadn’t known in ages. It was an even balance. Toast was right. 

“So, look, I’m sorry I’ve been a pain in the ass, and let me tell you, it’s probably going to happen again because I can’t hold my temper and I just feel angry all the time. I don’t understand what she sees in you, but I’m not about to ask her again. I’ll just… try to accept it.”

Max was definitively puzzled now. Accept what?

“Are you coming? There’s food in the kitchen and you totally need to wash. You look like shit.” She turned her bike around and rode away without waiting for his answer.

He nodded to himself. It was, as she’d said, hot as hell and he could feel the grease running down his neck along with sweat. A good wash and some hot food sounded like heaven. Funny how people get to quickly accustomed to the little luxuries of life.

Revving up his engine, Max followed Toast’s smoke and sand trail.

***

Max had washed the grease from his face and hands and was devouring his meal when Capable found him in the kitchen. The redhead smiled when she saw him, sitting down beside him and grabbing a piece of fruit from his plate. 

“Sorry to steal your food, but I’m starving,” she said. “How are you, Max?”

“’M good. Hmm. What about… Dag… the baby?”

“They’re both fine. I’m supposed to be watching them now, actually, but I got hungry. They’re sleeping, so I guess Cora will forgive me for disappearing for five minutes.”

“Hmm. Here.” He handed her a piece of bean paste.

“Thanks. You know, we were a little worried when you didn’t come back with the night scouts. Cheedo thought you’d left again, but Furiosa said you wouldn’t, not when Dag could need you.”

Max felt like an iron hand had squeezed his heart. He had actually considered leaving, fearing he wouldn’t be able to come back and see Dag with an infant to her breast. Much as he told himself that he’d stayed put out there just in case his blood was needed, deep down he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave – leave her – without saying a proper goodbye. And it hurt him a little to know she thought what stopped him from disappearing again was just a sense of duty.

“I knew you wouldn’t leave, Max. I still don’t understand why you did it when we came back, but I know you wouldn’t do it now.”

He raised his eyes from his plate. Capable always surprised him with her perceptiveness. So young, such horrors, and such a beautiful soul. Max felt very sorry for Nux’s death at that moment. They could have been so good for each other. 

“I’ll stay. For now. Can’t make any promises. But… I’ll try.”

“Furiosa won’t say anything to you, because she doesn’t want you to feel trapped. But she does need you. And… forgive me if I’m intruding, but… I believe you need her too.”

“She… doesn’t need me. She’s strong. She’s done well here.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Capable stood up, and to Max’s utter astonishment, she kissed the top of his head and ruffled his hair. “Gotta go, they should be waking up soon.”

Baffled, Max shook his head and decided to forgo his bath for the moment. The garage would do him much better. Nothing like the smell and sound of his Interceptor engine to give him some ground.


	11. Chapter 11

Furiosa woke up with a buzzing headache and a stiff neck. She sat up slowly, massaging the back of her neck with her flesh hand and trying to focus. Whatever concoction Cora had brought her the night before, it had knocked her out quickly and left her brain a little muzzy. 

Just when she was getting up, the door opened and Livia, one of the Vuvalini, came in with a tray. Furiosa felt relieved. She was hungry, but didn’t really feel like going to the kitchen to fetch her breakfast. 

Livia looked at her tenderly. Of the three surviving Vuvalini, she was the quietest and the most affectionate. Cora was at the same time maternal and almost brutally honest, and Tessa was pragmatic and rational. 

“Here, child. Cora asked me to bring you this and to take an empty tray back to the kitchen.”

Breakfast consisted of a bowl of milk, some dried fruit and the crunchy bread Dag and Livia had been working on for weeks. They weren’t totally happy with the consistency yet, but it was very filling and tasted good. Dag was experimenting with some roots in the garden and they were making flour with those.

Furiosa ate quickly and finished the whole meal, to Livia’s satisfaction. “How are Dag and the baby?” She asked between bites.

“The baby woke her up a couple of times to be nursed. Damn healthy lungs, if you ask me. Other than that, they just slept. She will heal quickly. She’s a fighter, that one.”

Furiosa nodded. “Who’s with them now?”

“Capable’s just taken over from Cheedo. Toast was up early and went straight to the garage. She said she’d be out with Ace, if you needed her.”

“Yeah, they’re working on her training. She’ll be hell on wheels when they’re finished. I…”

“What?”

“I’d like to ask Max to help her with her shooting, but she’s so aggressive towards him I don’t know if it’d be wise.”

“You think she’d shoot him?” Livia’s face was serious, but her eyes had a glint of laughter.

Furiosa smiled. “No, I don’t think she’d go that far, but she’d surely put that mouth of hers to work. I haven’t seen her saying anything rude to his face, but I don’t doubt she would.” She stood up and started to get dressed. “Where are my boots?”

“She’s just jealous, you know.”

Furiosa shot her an incredulous look, picking up her boots from the floor and putting them on. “Toast? Jealous? Of Max? Why, in the mothers’ name?”

“Those girls are used to having your undivided attention… and affection, since you came back here. You care about the people and the War Boys, but your devotion has always been theirs.” Livia crouched down and started lacing Furiosa’s boots. “Capable and Cheedo have no space for jealousy in their hearts. Dag is a riddle. But Toast is a complicated little soul, my child. She’s got a lot of anger stocked up, but that is mostly because deep down she craves love and affection. Dag and Cheedo have each other. Capable is still holding on to her memories of her War Boy. But Toast… she only has you. And since he’s back she’s feeling you slipping away.”

“That’s absurd, Livia. I don’t…” 

“Furiosa. Are you going to tell me you don’t have feelings for that man? Because if you are, it means you’re a consummate liar or in deep denial.”

“I have said this before. I trust him. I know he’ll have my back if I need him.”

“That’s why you had a room set for him, counting on his return?”

“No… Yes! I understand his reasons for leaving. I really do. Damn it, sometimes I’d like to get into a car and leave, too. But I have responsibilities here. He doesn’t. He’d done a lot already. I couldn’t have asked him to stay then, just as I can’t now. But I want him to feel at home here.”

“But you’d like to.”

“What?”

“Ask him to stay. Now, tell me why you won’t, since it’s clear to me you’ll be devastated if he disappears into the desert again.”

“He’s been held prisoner here. He got branded and labelled as a tool. He needs to feel he’s free to come and go as he likes. If I ask him, he’ll feel trapped, or worse, obliged.”

Livia was about to answer when Toast came into the Vault, covered with motor oil, Cheedo on her heels.

“Hello, Furiosa.” Toast’s greeting was dry, but Cheedo walked right up to Furiosa and gave her a quick hug.

“Good morning, Toast. Any news to tell me?”

“The night scouts came back mid-morning. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just some strays.”

“Good. How’s the training going?”

“Ace says I’m going to be better than you.”

“I bet he does.”

“And your F… Max is still out. Dunno why he didn’t come back with the others. Marshall said he saw him on watch at the top of a rock, but I can’t be sure he’s still there.”

Cheedo looked at Toast, alarmed. “You think he’ll leave again?”

Furiosa’s throat closed up a bit, but she tried to reassure the young girl – and herself, maybe. “He told me to send for him if Dag needed his… assistance. I don’t think he’d leave without making sure she’s fine.”

“Blind girl”, mumbled Livia, disappearing with the empty tray.

Cheedo looked relieved. Furiosa stroke her hair affectionately. “Now, why aren’t you sleeping? Dag’s in good hands. Capable will take good care of her.”

“I just wanted to check on you. I’m going to bed.” 

“And I’m going back to the garage,” said Toast. “Ace and Marshall are working on the Rig. You should come and see it. It’s looking… shine.”

“Will do, later. Toast?”

“Yep?”

“If Max’s not back by noon, I want you to go out and fetch him.”

Toast glared at her. “And what should I say to him?”

“Just tell him I sent for him. Please.”

Furiosa had the impression Toast was about to retort, but the girl just turned around and left with Cheedo, who was waiting at the door.

Alone again, Furiosa allowed herself a deep, tired sigh. Strapping her prosthetic arm on, she left the Vault, hoping that the chores of the day would bring her some peace of mind.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a lot with this chapter and I'm not entirely satisfied with it, but here it is. Hope you like it.

Capable was dozing on her chair when Livia finally arrived to replace her. Dag and the baby were asleep, and Livia checked the little boy’s makeshift diapers. Clean. Next, she put a finger under the baby’s small nose to see how he was breathing. Fine. All was well, apparently.

It had been a difficult birth, but Dag was recovering well. There had been no extensive bleeding and no ruptures, since the baby was blessedly small, and apart from the long hours of labour that the stubborn girl had hidden from the others, Dag hadn’t suffered much. Livia had seen many of her Vuvalini sisters go through indescribable ordeals when giving birth, and she was grateful to the Mothers for having spared Dag. She had been through enough.

Capable stirred, and Livia looked at the young woman with a fond smile. Since Furiosa had returned out of the blue and led them on that mad endeavor on the Fury Road, Livia had struggled to recognize the bubbly, adventurous little girl she had helped bring to the world many thousands of days ago in the fierce, relentless warrior of now. Livia didn’t ask Furiosa anything about the horrors she had seen and experienced firsthand under Joe’s rule. She really didn’t want to reopen barely healed wounds. But the girls, perhaps out of need to communicate, to share, to be heard, fed her with little pieces of information here and there – a comment, an expletive, a nightmare – that made Livia feel her spine turn ice. That there was still kindness and affection at all in those girls’ hearts was a miracle, Livia thought. Even Toast, with all the anger she had stocked up, had moments of immense tenderness. They were truly remarkable.

They had told her about Angharad with tears and smiles – their fallen sister and her unshakeable loyalty, her lioness heart. Livia felt sorry for her, but even sorrier for them – they were like four parts of a five-piece puzzle that would never be completed again. Angharad’s presence was always felt. Livia murmured a prayer for the girl’s soul, asking the Many Mothers to welcome her and her baby with open arms. 

Capable opened her eyes and stretched her legs. She glanced at the bed, looking pleased to see Dag and the baby still sleeping soundly, and stood up. “They’re doing fine. He only woke up to be fed. Dag nursed him in her sleep”, she told Livia, laughing softly.

“I’ll take over now, child. Why don’t you get some sleep on your own bed? Everything’s under control.”

“I’ve slept enough. I wasn’t even supposed to be sleeping, I should be watching them.”

“No harm done. They’re two logs. He’ll spend most of the time sleeping, during these first weeks. And her body needs to recover. She was pushing herself hard in the gardens, and I suspect she kept working even after her first pains began.”

Capable turned to leave, then seemed to change her mind.

“Livia… can I ask you something?”

“Of course, dear. What’s troubling you?”

“I’ve been wondering, lately… and I’ve thought of asking Furiosa, but she’s got so much on her mind.”

“Wondering about what?”

“When Furiosa told you about her mother’s passing… she made that gesture with her hand. You know? And it was the same during our way back here, when we lost Val and Keep.”

“It’s an old Vuvalini tradition. It means we carry the spirits of those who’ve gone before us in our hearts.”

“I figured out that much.” Livia smiled. The girl was smart. “I just want to know… How do you think it is like, on the other side? Do we go on? What are we going to find there?”

Livia looked at Capable’s pained expression and sighed. The redhead continued.

“Nux kept talking about Valhalla, and how he’d be awaited at the gates. He was witnessed. But is he there? In Valhalla? Has he found what he was looking for?” The girl’s blue eyes were brimming with tears. 

Livia sat down on the edge of Dag’s bed, taking Capable’s hand. The younger woman sat back on her chair. 

“The Vuvalini have always believed that one’s spirit goes on. We don’t know where it goes. Maybe we’re not supposed to know, and that’s the beauty of life’s mystery. But some people are known to see spirits, to be inspired, even guided by them.”

“The dead speak to the living?”

“Maybe not in so many words. Maybe they do talk to us, in our dreams. Maybe they’re just around us, offering comfort and protection even though we cannot see them.”

“Do you think… Nux will ever speak to me? Even in my dreams?”

“Have you dreamt about him?”

“A couple of times.”

“And what does he say?”

“Nothing. He just smiles. And Larry and Barry are gone.”

“Who are Larry and Barry?”

“His sickness. They were killing him. Chewing on his windpipe. But in the dream, they’re gone.”

“There you go. Perhaps this is his way to tell you he’s healed and well.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I do.” Livia patted Capable’s hand, smiling. “Love doesn’t die, my child.”

Capable stood up and kissed the top of Livia’s head. “Thank you.”

She left the room without making a noise. Livia moved to the chair Capable had occupied, stretching her tired legs and sighing, getting ready for her watch.


	13. Chapter 13

Max had to admit Wrench was a hell of a blackthumb. He was starting to hope his car would run again, after hearing the roar of the engine for the first time since he’d come back. It sounded louder, clearer, when it had been coughing and sputtering before. They’d been working on the frame for a couple of hours – it was severely damaged, scorched mostly, but the welders were good and there was a lot of metal available for repairs at the shop. 

A hint of a smile lit up Max’s face, as he stepped back to examine their work. He had his hands on his hips and his whole body felt relaxed. He hadn’t felt that… good, yes, that was the word, in years maybe.

“Too bad we don’t have more time to work on it”, said Wrench. Max nodded, thoughtful. The Rig was still the priority at the garage, but everyone was allowed to do other things, and most of the blackthumbs were working on repairing whatever had been salvaged from the canyon. The Gigahorse had been one of the first to be entirely restored, as Max had learnt from Capable. The Citadel residents saw it as a war trophy, and to Furiosa’s annoyance, it was parked untouched near the main gates, a reminder of their triumphant return.

“Oi! You! Wastelander!” It took Max a couple of seconds to realize someone was calling him. He turned around and saw Ace coming towards him, his hands and arms covered on motor oil and sweat. All Max knew about him was that he’d been Furiosa’s second-in-command and the two were not in speaking terms, although he acknowledged her authority and was fiercely loyal to her. 

Max looked at him as he approached. He was limping heavily, due to his wounds on the Fury Road, but his presence was imposing. “I think we should talk”, said Ace. 

Max nodded, wondering what the old warrior had to say to him. Ace turned, indicating to Max that he should follow, and stopped at a quiet corner of the autoshop.

“We haven’t been formerly introduced, I suppose. I’m Ace. I used to be in the Imperator’s crew.” He extended a greasy hand, which Max took in his own.

Max was taken aback. He wasn’t expecting that. Not at all. He'd noticed Ace staring at him over the last days, with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Mostly suspicion.

“Hm. Name’s Max.”

“I just wanted you to know… you have my gratitude. You kept her safe when I couldn’t. I cannot say I have forgiven her… we lost so many. But I am trying to understand. And I have to trust her decisions. She was… is my Imperator, and I owe her obedience.”

Max was getting increasingly astounded with the way that conversation was going. He hesitated before answering, not really sure of what to say.

“She… hm… she had to make very difficult choices. But… I am sure you have her trust… and her respect, just like before. You should try and talk to her.”

There was a flash of pain on Ace’s eyes. “I will decide that. But there’s something else I’d like to say to you.”

Max waited, silently.

“I understand you saved her life and made sure she returned to the Citadel safely. But I also know you walked away from her and left this place without a backward glance.”

Max stiffened. Ace was surely pushing hard on his guilt buttons.

“She could have died of her injuries. Gastown could have attacked us, or even Bullet Farm, although I reckon they’re in worse shape than us. Still, it could have happened. Anything could have happened. You knew that, and you left all the same.”

Max still didn’t utter a word. He wasn’t used to be scolded like that, not by the living.

“So, I need to know where your loyalty lies. Because you come back here, and you have your own quarters and full access to our garages, our armory, our supplies. I need to be sure you don’t mean her any harm.”

Max nodded. His head was spinning. It was remarkable, really, how she was able to inspire such devotion. “I would do anything in my power to defend her, and this place, if necessary,” he answered earnestly. 

“I don’t mean to offend. I know you did a lot for her. But you’ve been away for a long time. And people… change sides, out of necessity. For survival.”

The bitterness in Ace’s voice was louder than his words. Max put a hand on the old War Boy’s shoulder, looking at him squarely in the eye. “I can guarantee you she has my loyalty.”

“As you have mine.” Ace gave two steps backwards and bowed to Max, joining his hands in a V. 

The V-8 salute.

Max was totally confused now. “Why did you do that?”

“It is what an Imperator deserves. She wouldn’t have given you that scarf, if she hadn’t thought you were worthy of the rank.” And with that, Ace turned around and disappeared. 

Max’s head was reeling. Suddenly, things started to click and make sense to him. Wrench’s silent, unquestioning obedience, the War Pups’ deference, the way plates of food and clean clothes seemed to magically appear in front of him.

He ran a hand through his hair, his face. He didn’t know what to think. 

He needed air. 

Max was just about to get on the lift that would take him to the upper levels – no way he was going through the tunnels now – when a metal hand touched his shoulder softly.

Furiosa materialized herself in front of him, and it was obvious, from the look on her face, she had overheard good part of the conversation.

“I think I owe you an explanation”, she said, holding out her hand. “Come with me?”

He followed.


	14. Chapter 14

Furiosa’s day had been hectic so far, and she was grateful. She had too much on her mind, with Max’s return and Dag giving birth, and diving headfirst into the Citadel affairs allowed her to think straight. She had gathered part of the Council to tell them the Gastown news, and done her everyday rounds to check the whole complex was working as it should. Furiosa thanked the Mothers for counting on loyal, talented people who wanted to make a better place of the former Immortan Joe’s fortress. The Sisters, with their limited knowledge and experience of the outside world, were a constant source of surprise for her. They were all smart women who were eager to learn, and each one had a specific set of skills which were simply going to waste during their time as Wives. Angharad had been right. They were not the decorative things Joe had made of them. Each of those girls was their own person, and Furiosa felt a mix of pride and awe watching them blossom.

Toast had told her she’d gone to fetch Max, when Furiosa stopped at the kitchen for a quick snack. To the Imperator’s surprise, the girl hadn’t made any crass comments. Furiosa reckoned it would just be a matter of time for Toast and Dag to respect him like Capable and Cheedo did; in the meantime, she’d have to make sure they left him alone. Toast’s confrontational attitude could very well spook him away, and Furiosa wasn’t taking the risk. She’d realized, after sending Toast after him, that maybe it had been a bad idea; but he’d returned, hopefully unscathed. Things were under control.

The Imperator thought briefly about paying a visit to Dag and the baby, but decided to leave it for later. The girl was probably sleeping and under careful watch. Furiosa tried to find useful things to do and stay away from the garages, but it was mid-afternoon, she had finished her rounds, everything was running as smoothly as possible and there was really no reason not to go there and check the work on the new Rig.

At least that was what she told herself she was going to do. 

Furiosa prided herself on the fact that she had a level head and was able to rationalize, compartmentalize and analyze things. She wouldn’t have survived her times as a Wife and later as an Imperator, if she had her feelings take control. She felt, and she felt strongly, but she had learnt to bury any kind of emotion very deep and not let them surface. Hell, she had to sacrifice most of her crew on the Fury Road. Some had survived out of sheer luck, such as Ace. But although she would never regret her decision to go against Joe, she still lamented having betrayed her War Boys and used their loyalty to achieve her goals. 

Max had barreled into her life as a tanker truck, however. Furiosa told herself repeatedly that they had built their trust out of circumstance. But the truth was that, looking in retrospective, she and him had established a strong connection that defied rationalization. She remembered, many weeks after their return to the Citadel, having locked eyes with him when he was chained to the front of Nux’s car, a bloodbag and an ornament. It was a fleeting moment, but she remembered the despair and madness in his eyes, having been robbed of everything that was him – his blood, his clothes, his car, his dignity. She had no time to pity him then, but she wondered, while she lay on her bed and her sides burned like liquid fire, where he had found the willpower to fight back for his humanity. 

He could have shot her in the head. He could have stolen the Rig, after she told him the kill switch sequence and gave him the wheel. He could have left them in the middle of the bog, instead of coming back with guns and ammo, after his confrontation with the Bullet Farmer. He could have just ridden away and left them to cross the salt, instead of coming up with a plan to take them back home. 

He'd done nothing of that. 

And he’d saved her life. 

Sure, he had walked away, and despite Dag and Toast’s resentment, she tried to see things from his perspective and couldn’t actually blame him. Sure, he could have been of use, and he would have been more than welcome to stay. But he had been quite clear when she’d invited him to accompany them through the salt. She could still hear his quiet “I’ll make my own way” in her mind, and she could still feel a pang of disappointment every time she thought of it. 

Furiosa had hoped for his return, not daring to expect it. She had pondered, more often than she’d like to admit, if she’d ever learn of his fate, if he’d end up buried in sand somewhere in the wasteland and she’d never know. She’d wondered why she cared. She’d told herself it was a matter of gratitude and even started to believed it, but over the last couple of days he’d managed to turn her thoughts and feelings into havoc again. Damn him.

She did not expect to find him having a conversation with Ace, of all people. Ace, who still refused to talk to her. Ace, who still glared at her every time they crossed paths.

Furiosa was dumbfounded. She could have imagined Ace questioning Max’s loyalty. What she did NOT see coming was that her former sidekick was still so conditioned into following Joe’s rituals, he’d salute Max as an Imperator. 

He wasn’t even wearing the scarf. Damn Ace and his powers of observation.

She hadn’t meant it that way. She had given it to him to keep him safe. She knew the Citadel Imperators were respected and feared. She reckoned the scarf would keep him out of trouble. 

She didn’t want to think she’d meant for him to take something of herself.

Furiosa's mind was going a hundred miles a minute, and she stared blankly at Ace's retreating back. He and Max had been so caught in their conversation; they hadn’t seen her approaching. Max’s look was a mix of puzzlement and anger. He looked ready to bolt. She suspected he would have, had his car not been entirely dismounted. 

He jumped when he saw her. His expression softened a bit when he heard her voice. 

“I think I owe you an explanation”, she said, holding out her hand. “Come with me?”

Max hesitated for a second before slipping his hand into hers, but followed her, not saying a word. 

It was going to be a very difficult conversation.

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been sitting on my computer for a few months now. I'm not sure where it's going yet, but I felt it needed to be posted. It could take some time, but I honestly intend to continue - and any feedback will be more than welcome!


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